from "Child Harold"

Tis winter & the fields are bare & waste
The air one mass of ‘vapour clouds & storms’
The suns broad beams are buried & oercast
& chilly glooms the midday light deforms
Yet comfort now the social bosom warms
Friendship of nature which I hourly prove
Even in this winter scene of frost & storms
Bare fields the frozen lake & leafless grove
Are natures grand religion & true love

(lines 901-909)

John Clare, The Living Year, 1841 
Tim Chilcott (ed)
(Nottingham: Trent Editions, 1999)

No comments: